


Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

by Irish_coffee



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 18:35:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8024629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irish_coffee/pseuds/Irish_coffee
Summary: A Wisdom-inspired holiday One Shot featuring Helen, James, a ten year old Ashley and a fifteen year old Henry... And a Christmas tree. Light and fluffy. My first attempt at Helen/James romance... Please don't hit me :).





	Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

 

_Through the years_  
_We all will be together,_  
_If the Fates allow_  
_Hang a shining star upon the highest bough._  
_And have yourself A merry little Christmas now._

Helen could feel James' gaze on her as she was wrapping the last of Henry's Christmas gifts. For once, he was not trying to figure her out, he was only staring at her in the dim light of the candles and that of the fire. It felt comfy, sitting there on the carpet next to the way too big tree she had bought for the occasion. The children had decorated it before going to bed, and she had just put the star on top of it, as she had always done, always when the old clock in the hall was striking midnight. Just like her father had done before her. Helen Magnus was not one to go against Christmas traditions.

When she finished with the paper, and James didn't hand her any ribbon, she looked at him, smiling.

"What is it?" She asked, trying and failing to take the bag of velvet ribbons from him.

James smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. How happy he was to be there with his oldest friend and to see her so focused on making everyone perfectly happy.  
"Don't you think all of this is no longer necessary?" He asked back, giving her a piece of the soft fabric when she stared at him, obviously not amused with his little game.  
"What do you mean?"  
He smiled again when her manicured fingers applied themselves to tying the ribbon around the small box she had just wrapped. She did it with such ease that he wondered, just for a second, if she wasn't actually one of Santa's elves- Even if she had about a hundred Christmas parties behind her now, and two kids she spoiled far more than would have been acceptable by Victorian standards.  
"Helen, why don't we open the gifts after dinner? Henry believes in you more than he has ever believed in Santa, and Ashley... Well, Ashley's only ten and I swear I heard her the other day saying that she would 'kick any red butt trying to break into this house'." James explained, an impish smile lighting his face at the thought that his goddaughter would certainly be just as stubborn a troublemaker as her mother.

Helen should have been offended to hear about her daughter's excess, but hearing such childish threats coming from the highly sophisticated man made her snort, and she would have laughed if she didn't know the effect it had on James. It always aroused him to no end, and he knew exactly where to tickle her to hear more of that radiant laugh he adored. Yet, they were on the floor, and his body was a huge mass of rheumatism that begged to be treated with caution. So she bit her lip and watched him lovingly.

"But darling, it's all about seeing them rush about the tree with their sleepy faces, tearing the paper off and throwing it all around happily." She explained, thinking about how fully happy that made her feel.  
"Henry has never done that." James pointed out, knowing perfectly what she meant.  
Helen squinted and abandoned the fight. She knew him enough to know he was only teasing.

"Besides, I love this." She vaguely gestured at the mess around them. "Being there with you when all is quiet. No intruders, no emergency, no pain... It's only us, the fire, the wine and all the Christmas-y things around."

She didn't mention the fact that there was no Nigel, no John, no Nikola to celebrate with them. It was pointless. It had been the both of them for so long now... And it was good too. They didn't live together anymore, they needed that time of the year to reconnect.

"Speaking of Christmas-y things... Come here." He took her hand and made her move closer to him where he could easily reach for her neck without hurting himself. He fished a dark green ribbon from the bag next to him and tied it around Helen's neck. She didn't move. She sat there, staring at him, thinking how nice it would be to kiss him right on the spot. His fingers caressed her neck and the satin fabric of the ribbon, barely able to tell which was which.

James was transfixed. She was the perfect picture of the woman he adored. He engraved that image in his mind, thinking he would take this one to his grave. Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes sparkling, and that knot around her pretty neck made him think of what else he could do with all those ribbons.

"Now you're my beloved Christmas present." He said, still lost in the ocean of her eyes.  
She bit her lip and looked down at her hands, trapped in his.  
"It seems like I'm your present every year." She sighed.  
James took her chin in the palm of his hand and sought her gaze.  
"You're quite the undying one, and I couldn't be more satisfied."

The undying one... Helen knew what he meant, she would have to bury him, one day. And she didn't want to think about it. So she pecked him on the lips, promising more, so much more... But probably less than what they had already said and done in a century.

James caught her face in his hands and broke the kiss, only to brush his lips against her cheek, her temple and her forehead before pulling back to take a look at her beloved face.

He loved her hair tied up like that in a mock-sophisticated way, with those scarce seemingly -but only so- escaped curls daring him to come and get them back to the rest of them. However, he preferred it untied, all those untamed curls running wild and free, like Helen, framing her head, hiding his hands. He loved to run his hands among those chocolate curls, and so he untied them, just like he had done the first time he had made love to her, but with more ease, and considerably less pins. She closed her eyes, gasping when he tugged lightly on her hair at the back of her head to expose her neck, and he smiled when he saw her skin covered in goosebumps.  
"James..." She half protested when he ravished her neck with open-mouthed kisses.

"Mhmh?" He muttered, catching her earlobe between his teeth.  
She had to bite back a moan. He knew her far too well for her own good, and she thought for a second that this was his revenge for all those times when she had interrupted his activities after the same fashion.  
"We should go to my room." She said, not nearly as convincing as she should have been according to the circumstances.

"Nonsense." James sighed. With that, he took her lips for a lazy kiss that effectively made her forget all about his rheumatism.

She was slightly grazing his neck with her nails when a shriek sounded out from nowhere, bringing the couple back down to earth.  
"Mom! Uncle James! There's no mistletoe above!"  
James jumped, and Helen had to steady him with a hand on his heart to make sure he was not dying of an attack. When he sighed and took her hand in his, she burst out laughing.  
Ashley and Henry were standing in the doorway in their pajamas, barefoot and looking as excited as two kids on Christmas day... Henry was carrying a basket full of boxes, smiling shyly, and Ashley was looking at the two adults with her warrior face on, obviously pissed off by the fact they were not respecting the tradition, which made her mother giggle even more.  
"You're right Ash. However, there was a tradition back in our days saying you have to kiss your loved ones after the star is placed on the top of the Christmas tree." Helen told the girl. It was all made up, but it was not really a lie. She couldn't remember not kissing James on Christmas Eve, at least it had been their thing since the dawn of the century.

"Then I want a kiss too." Ashley protested.  
Helen smiled and beckoned her to come and sit on her lap and she pecked her on the lips. Ashley giggled and looked at James, squinting, pointing to her own cheek. James gazed at Helen whose goofy smile convinced him to kiss his goddaughter's red cheek.  
"You're prickly. How can mom kiss you so much when you're prickly?" The little one asked, patting James' cheek.  
"She used to be as prickly as me when she was young." He joked, making the blonde child giggle.  
Helen looked daggers at him and he wondered if he would ever get to play with the ribbon on her neck again that night.  
She turned to Henry, still in the doorway looking at them with a smile on his lips and cocked her head to the side.  
"Don't stand there Henry or you'll catch your death. Come give me a Christmas hug and warm yourself up next to the fire." She ordered, extending an arm to catch him.  
With her daughter in her lap, James' knees touching hers and her shy but adorable teenager glued to her side, Helen could not have been happier.  
Through the window, she saw the first snowflakes falling down on Old City.


End file.
